[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

XXXXXEven now,
part of me
(my hands)
want to
pull out
that glass
she lodged
in her neck.

Pull it out
and drop it
into pieces,
or keep it
in the back seat
of my car.

Where it can
lay a while
and stare at me.
Part of me
(my chest)
is not afraid
of demons.

It is far less
dangerous
than girls with
haphazard knives
and other
monsters.

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Chasing Butterflies

I believe in starry nights writing timeless songs
of all the yesterdays and tomorrows yet to come.

I believe in hearing the voice of love in rhyme;
I heard it as a child in my mother's lullabies.

Let's go down to the river now
and chase the butterflies.

I believe in playing, absorbing life's full sun,
dancing through the day until the night is done.

I believe in wishing wells never running dry,
granting us the time for a tender, slow goodbye.

Let's go down to the river now
and chase the butterflies.

Should I cross to the other side,
don't you worry; don't you cry.

There you'll see where tomorrow I'll be,
forever chasing butterflies...

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

Evolution of life

child, we dream
teenager, we have ideas
adult, we have a bar code encrusted in the nape

we evolve to finish in the matrix

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

On The Collapse Of Modern Society"I've never seen so many folks
putting their hopes
in packaged air,
as far as I'm concerned,
and from what I've observed
misplacing material worth while
rushing back and forth
to get nowhere."
my Grandma said,
shaking her head.

Within A BoxIt's a prison for the minds of haunted souls
an odd prison, not large enough to contain its prisoners
and yet it encompasses every fiber of their being
in silent, silent spaces.
Haunted souls are searching for the key
there is no key, but they don't know any better
and what harm could it do? Hope is better than nothing
here's an unlocked open door for you.
Little trinkets haunt souls with their questions
and we want answers, but they won't give
anything away. Very smart,
you know the world is ending soon.
(The best of which are only
crude descriptions of the magic
they are looking for.)

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

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No Man Left BehindThe wind pounds sleet into my face, drenching me in freezing water yet again. My gloved hands clutch the rope tightly, the only real thing in the swirling blizzard. At a lower altitude, I'd have climbed with bare hands, but at this height, not wearing gloves meant losing fingers to frostbite. Despite my thick gloves, I can feel the blisters on my hands. My entire body feels numb, the heavy-duty Gore-tex jacket that I wear over two other layers of clothing doing little to prevent the chill from seeping in. I shiver, and suddenly lose my footing, stumbling into the snow.

"Careful," my climbing buddy, Mike, says, his voice muffled by his scar

NiggerWe raced together, you and I
Through those v a s t fields of barley and rye
Twirling and prancing
As free as the wind

Away from those of your violent kin
From those who look at me
With naught but scorn for my skin
For them, my mere existence be sin

I lay with you
In the shadows of that maple
Counting the seconds as they passed
Not knowing the peace couldn't last

They found us then
The two girls of harsh black and purest white
No, their fuddled minds said
No, this is not right!

The screams

The shouts

These Three WordsShe hears the words
But cannot accept them
That cherubic face
Those pearly eyes

Uncomprehending, disbelieving
So insecure of the blind truth
Why she can't see it, I wonder
I'm certain everyone else can

The mirror on her wall must lie
Jealous to the point of treachery
For how could it compare?
To that shining face, that flowing hair?

I whisper those three words
Slowly, deliberately
So that she may not doubt her senses
I whisper them so that she may know

I whisper them
And the blood thuds in her ears
What did he say?
It must not be true!

Each syllable rolls off my tongue
Sweet and innocent
As the morning dew
On a blade of

Flames of PassionYou walk through my flames of passion
Unscathed, unharmed
Unlike those
Who came before you
You take a step
And then another
Walking into my heart
With confident ease
You know how this’ll end
But still you dare
To change our paths
And challenge fate
Unafraid of the fire
That burns, out of control
Sweeping through with ease
You command it utterly
Engulfed in the blaze
At your prime, your zenith
You enjoy this
You exult in it
I watch in stunned silence
Mesmerized by your elegant dance
Bobbing and weaving out of the inferno
Flowing with liquid grace
Now the fire rages like never before
But you leap to safety just in time
You leap to me
And the fire boils down
To a slow smolder
I just hope that one day
The flames don’t side with their master
And turn on me instead
For then I will burn.

Pain (Cinquain Poem)Pain
Consuming, obliterating
Wracking my body
Please, make it stop!
Agony

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Elpis

by ~Avix215, Feb 2, 2013, 11:36:36 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Spirit Elpis
Represents Hope
In lost abyss
It is able to cope

When a spirit is crushed
It will cower down
But all hope is not hushed
To rise from mud brown
From within, the flood gushed
To reclaim the crown

Hope numbs Anger
For Anger numbs Good
Opens the passage
To where great ones once stood

But Hope never leaves
As knight in shining armour
Whether it be king
Or poor peasant farmer

While broken to pieces
It stays strong as steel
Covers the wounds
Time alone can heal

Elpisby ~Avix215

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

©2013 ~Avix215

Spirit Elpis represents Hope.
Enjoy.

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~crystelclear1104 Feb 4, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I love

This is awesome.

Reply

~Avix215 Feb 9, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

thanks

Reply

~InvaderZIB13 Feb 4, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Beautiful!
Everything is beautifully done!

Reply

~Avix215 Feb 9, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks so much!

Reply

Mood: Love

~sarahowen97 Feb 3, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

That's a really great poem! I often struggle to write effectively when using rhyme, but you've done a fantastic job!

Reply

~Avix215 Feb 4, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks!

I use rhyme sometimes. Just when it comes to me and all the pieces fit together.

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